Rise and Fall
by Faith B. Cobra
Summary: On Pandora losing everything sometimes means to gain something… The Vault-hunters are just uneven pieces of a puzzle...
1. Chapter 1

On Pandora you can lose everything, but sometimes it's possible to gain the most precious…

Don't own anything.

Not the first try in writing, but, well...

Anyway, English is not my native language, so feel free to tell me when you see mistakes...

Without beta, alas. Sometimes can change or edit already published chapters.

* * *

><p>Pleasant burning engulfing her body sets her free as long as she goes on and on. Transparent fiery wings spreading out, golden eyes wide open, but mesmerized and unseeing, unseeing. Siren flames licking her skin, caressing every inch as an attentive lover would.<p>

'Yes that's it.'

So much needed respite that will calm frayed nerves, drive away approaching madness and soothe the soul that cannot find answers. Transition is so hard and no one there to help her.

She swirls to the music audible only to her in the midst of this strange, harsh and brutal land. Round and round. Hips undulating, swaying, red hair flying, hands following some intricate patterns. Closing her eyes she listens to the rhythm of wind, to sands' murmuring, cries of nocturnal creatures, and to the song of her inner Phoenix, listens carefully trying to decipher, to accept and understand its call.

Glittering stars and moon bath the world around in pale and illusory light. Shades of grey. These rare moments of privacy are so precious and inaccessible on this strange planet, that doesn't know a bit about such things, and doesn't care. Only greed prevails, greed for blood, money or both.

The fire circle is getting wider, dazzling wings flare brighter and brighter, markings are glowing from the inside.

Clever girl, that she is, stays hidden from the prying eyes behind the biggest hill, and nobody from the camp, located in the cave, can see her, and the moment is right as well – Brick is on watch, and he never asks unnecessary question, his trust in her is brotherly like.

Alas, the moon is high and Hunter is restless and insomniac, and of course, highest perch on the rocky hill is the best place for someone like him. Getting to his final destination Mordecai is struck speechless and can't believe his eyes – there she is, as on the day of birth, dancing on the wide slab of rock, smooth and hard, pile of clothes thrown carelessly on some dried shrub. The view catches him off the balance and he almost stumbles, but his instincts are sharp as usual and he manages not to make a sound.

He stands there for few moments mesmerized and speechless. But knowing dangers of such peeping, like serious body injury from mad siren that is getting stronger by the minute, figuratively speaking, and wrongness of invading her privacy, he tears his gaze away – not an easy task, mind it, – and starts his careful descend.

"Be silent, Blood, sure we don't want something bad happening to us, right?"

As quietly and dexterously as possible he climbs down the hill, but halfway to the bottom meets enraged siren. Without losing his self-control he cautiously touches bird's chest and sends her away – doesn't want to deal with two females at the same time.

"Go, Blood, find some nice place to sleep."

Mistrustfully glancing at the woman Bloodwing caws two times and takes a flight back to the hill's top.

Raising his palms in placating gesture Mordecai tries to speak calmly so their companions won't hear them…

'Well, only if she's not going to yell at him'.

"I didn't know you were there, just couldn't sleep."

But it seems like the words are unable to penetrate her furious and bloodlust trance.

'Something is not quite right.'

She doesn't respond and advances on him like drunk, electricity-laden palms lifted threateningly.

He frowns groping for dagger's hilt – his initial reaction on the danger woman represents – but deciding against it touches revolver feeling its reassuring weight. Siren is almost nose to nose with him, but still he should be able to strike if necessary…

"Lilith…"

She starts when man whispers her name and shakes her head like a dog trying to get rid of water. Right away she notices his stance – tense, ready for defending himself – and electricity on her hands. Horror fills her eyes and for a moment she stands petrified and speechless, her stare strikes Hunter like a whip.

"Did I… fuck… Did I try to attack you?"

Mordecai relaxes a bit and slowly lowers his hand.

"Yeah, seems like that."

Then she remembers and is angry again, her accusing finger jabs his chest, and her words sound more like a hiss.

"You were fucking watching me."

He sounds defensive.

"I didn't know you were there."

Still suspicion is marring her face.

"How interesting, did you intentionally go after me? When it's obvious that I wanted to be left alone."

With efforts he remains in the same pose, never showing his apprehension, trying not to glance away guiltily, because otherwise it will be the confession she needs to have.

"So you couldn't sleep and went to take a stroll?"

That wording gets his attention.

"And you weren't in some sort of killing trance and were totally aware of you doings. Wanted to scare me?"

'What a bitch! Played me for sucker. Oh, no, she won't get away with that'.

Surprised she glances away.

'He catched that – damn!'

"And you… you're fucking pervert! And liar!"

"We both are, why are you being so childish?"

Suddenly he is just tired and disappointed, exasperatedly shakes his head.

'Maybe I'm just growing old'.

Warily Mordecai watches as she turns to leave, but it couldn't be that simple… and then she throws over her shoulder, just to have the upper hand.

"Do that again and I'll phase you."

Desire to gloat floods his veins. The Hunter is obviously tempting his fate, raising her hackles like that.

"I'd like to see you try."

In the next moment he is pushed into the rock face behind him, Maliwan's SMG pressed tightly into his abdomen.

'Yeah, and not threatening my treasure, nope. Not at all'.

He is unnerving her, always has been. His wit and sarcastic humor never fail to amuse her, but sometimes he touches a sore spot like nobody else. She believes him to be too arrogant and self-absorbed. Sometimes she thinks that he is driven only by greed and excitement, but then she sees his loyalty and thinks that there is more to him, than a loner seeking challenges and loot.

She is tempting him, always has been. Her sharp tongue and quick thinking drive him wild, sometimes from desire, sometimes from exasperation. But he is never indifferent towards her. From the first moment he has laid his eyes on her. She can't be ignored. And not because of her siren powers or beauty, but for she changes everything she touches.

In such close proximity she can smell faint traces of rakkale, machine oils he uses for his weapons and his own male scent, rather pleasant and clean. Even with that bad habit of his, hygiene is one of his top priorities, because quarry finding its hunter would be, well, awkward. And this confounds her, blurry her senses. Her heart starts beating wildly, adrenalin flooding her blood. She always keeps her head clear, but it seems impossible now. Getting a grip on herself she shows no weakness, no emotions.

"What are you playing at, old fucker?"

His answering chuckle is dark and raucous, and his revolver lovingly nudges her side with its cold muzzle.

Now he likes that game of theirs.

"Not so fast, little girl."

Glancing down she notices her predicament.

'It's becoming interesting. So who will be the first to cave?'

"Now take away you gun, while I'm asking nicely."

He almost tastes the sweet victory and his smile stretches wide, little wrinkles appear in the corners of his mouth.

"Neat trick."

Her laugh is cruel and slightly unhinged. 'Nobody likes to lose'. But she slides her weapon little lower and presses little harder, like it's a pleasure to threaten him so.

"Oh, no, my electrical gun in no time will take your shield out and it will hurt, oh yeah, it will hurt, wretched fucker... Drop your weapon."

Such a sweet poison, that power she wields over him. He licks his suddenly dry lips and her eyes avidly watch that motion.

"Clever…"

Throwing his revolver to the side, in his line of sight though, he holds his palms up. Self-assured smile twists her full, crimson-painted lips and she's just unable to control herself.

"So, now, you're at my mercy... What should I do?"

For a moment she ponders over situation and what she'd like to get, now when she holds all aces.

'Satisfy curiosity? Or twisted desires?'

"How about you get on your knees…"

She pauses for more dramatic effect.

"…and apologize for spying on me. But first – take away your mask."

She's not above some things, and he's not a saint. And Lilith steps back to enjoy the view, wondering how enraged could he become.

'Oh, and he already is, isn't he?'

Man barely restrains himself from clutching at her throat.

'So much fun, he never stops entertaining me'.

Impatiently she stamps her foot, when Hunter doesn't move. The self-satisfied grin stretches her mouth wide.

"I'm so waiting here, Mordy. Come on, give me a show."

Clamping his jaws tight, he raises his hands unhurriedly and fiddles with clasps under his chin. Finally the wretched mask is carelessly thrown away on a patch of ground with sparse grass. He blinks few times adjusting his eyes to different lighting – his goggles are custom-made and designed for seeing in the dark better than average human eyes. Stars, moon, and flickering of her markings are the only light source now.

Not caring if this is considered offensive, she stares open-mouthed at his face, not so different from others, proportional, even handsome, nothing amiss…

'There are no disfigurements, no anomalies, then why…'

That moment of weakness is her undoing.

'Lesson for the future – never lower your guard down when dealing with Hunter'.

Next instant he has her pressed face-first to the same rock, where he was trapped. Sub-machine gun clatters noisily to the parched ground, her wrists are clamped in surprisingly strong grip.

'Well, if the man can lift a sniper rifle like it weights nothing...'

His foreboding chuckle near her ear sends shivers down her spine.

"Liked what you saw?"

She shrugs, or tries to, but for the iron bands, that his palms are, her movements are seriously limited.

"Too dark to see clearly, at least you look like human being."

"You bet."

Sudden urge compels him to nuzzle at the back of her neck. His nostrils are filled with her delicate perfume. She shivers again, harder, and glares over her shoulder, clearly offended.

"What the hell are you doing, old weirdo?"

"To the victor go the spoils."

Openly evil and husky laugh. Unease, cutting through her skin, not unlike many needles.

She jerks.

Panic is building up. Fingertips are getting cold.

"Fucking asshole, what do you think you're doing?"

"Nothing you wouldn't like, I assure you."

That heavy-leaden comment makes her seethe. She knows him to be dangerous but to this extend?

'It just doesn't make sense; Hunter is not such a person'.

She refuses to believe in that, but at that moment doubts worm their way into her mind.

Even understanding her discomfort at such implications perfectly, Mordecai is not above getting a little petty revenge with scaring her a little bit.

'Taunting her is such a sweet pastime'.

"Now you are at my mercy... what should I do?"

Her own words are thrown at her.

Woman jerks harder, trying to get free, but Hunter holds her fast. Of course she can activate phasewalk, but it's the last resort– in case man would really try doing something ungodly – its pulse would be enough to deplete his shield and zap him, not very hard.

'It would be a hell to pay'.

"Jackass," spats woman furiously, "don't you dare."

Another wicked chuckle. Provoking her further.

"Well, now that I think about it, I'm not that sure you'd like this…"

Lilith pales, he can't see that, but her stiffening is unmistakable. Bittersweet tinge of fear.

It seems he can taste it. Or maybe that's just his imagination.

"So… I'm asking you a question. And… I expect an answer."

She relaxes, only a little bit, and shakes her head.

'Nice way to have a conversation. Do all these people without a social life behave in such a way..?'

"Is that all?"

"Wanna something else? More hardcore? Just say a word. You can start with my name, princess."

"Oh, fuck off!"

"Sooo. Now that we are sharing our dirty secrets… What was all that dancin' about?"

She snorts and laughs, little nervously though.

'Of all things, why ask that?'

Siren is not comfortable with discussing this topic with anyone, not yet, at least, when she's trying to understand why the primal dance make it easier to conquer her powers and relieve pains and some… urges.

"Nothing, just, you know, dancing, having some fun, relaxing."

"Riiight, as if I'd believe you. Naked? In the middle of the fucking night. What about that fire ring and wings? Haven't seen them before."

She covers her turmoil with venom and irritation.

"Not your business, old man, just leave me be."

"So touchy."

Their inability to have normal talk should to be written in the history of planet Pandora. Both equally stubborn, never yielding.

'The best defense is to attack, so why not try that'.

"What about your mask? Care to explain, why are you so scared of the world seeing your face?"

"Ah, but you're sorely mistaken, I'm not."

Fingers holding her tighten just a fraction, almost imperceptibly. They both are doing their best to fool each other and themselves. Deception and lies. Smoke screens and mirrors.

"It's out of convenience, you see – sand, dirt, gore – hate to get them in my eyes, bah!"

So confident, but it feels off.

"Can you release me already, I'm loosing feeling in my fingers, you idiot!"

Hunter seems thoughtful for few moments, then deciding that he won't be getting a straight answer, unclenches his grasp and steps back with obvious regret. Rubbing her sore wrists she glares daggers at him.

"It's going to leave bruises, damn! Do you think with your ass or something? What would I say if anybody asks?"

Shrugging Mordecai leers.

"Say, you like it rough."

She feels hot all over, face and ears burning. More furious because of her own reaction, than of him. Intricate markings flash dangerously.

"Fuck you, bastard!"

"That could be arranged, if you'd like."

Aghast and speechless she stands gaping, but then she gets it.

"Are you hitting on me, Mordy? Is that what's going on here?"

Silence is the answer. Raising of his dark thick eyebrows, so strikingly contrast with the untanned upper part of his face.

No big surprise here, considering all that masking stuff.

Shocked she bursts out laughing, right into his face.

"Dammit, Mordy, you just want me, don't you?"

Intense stare of dark eyes bores into her, ferocity almost palpable.

"All these taunting! 'You hold the rifle like a dead skag's leg,' 'don't forget to reload the revolver'," she mockingly copies his deep voice, "or 'try hitting target for a change,' or maybe this, my favorite, 'can you not rush into fight like a screeching rakk?' Fuck! Just like a boy pulling girl's pigtails. Always hated that, by the way."

Stung he recoils from her.

She's really signing her own death warrant.

"How couldn't I see that earlier?"

"Yeah, laugh. Heartless bitch. You are unlikely to understand something like that."

She is paralyzed. Her eyes fixed on him are blazing. Sporadic sparks flicker over the left side of her body. Her question and facade are deceptively calm.

"What did you say?"

Mordecai leans forward a little. Every word is cutting and harsh.

"You. Don't. Have. A heart. Siren."

It's very simple – not any body reaction can be controlled and her fight is short-lived. Unbidden, her eyes begin to water, but woman refuses to show any weakness, clenching her teeth pulls herself together.

"Yeah, that's right. I am. And don't you forget that! Seeing farther than your own nose is an impossible task for you, isn't, birdlover?"

Surprise is written all over Hunter's face.

'Must be some trick… is she...' – but glittering in her eyes unmistakable. Fearless goddess of death and destruction can feel simple human emotions and is trying her hardest not to cry.

She turns her tense back on him. Angrily swipes at her eyes with the heel of her palm. Seemingly innocuous barb has cut woman to the very core.

Sighing he walks up to Siren and turns her around for embrace.

'Maybe it will help to fix the situation'.

"Get away from me, you fuckwit."

She tries pushing him away but her feeble attempts are in vain, much taller man easily presses her close, trapping her in his thin hands. So skinny, and that has deceived many of his enemies, but lies in that lanky and sinewy body.

"God damn, I don't need your… your… fucking pity," muffled voice near his chest whines shrilly.

"Just… hush, little girl."

Strange, but that works – she quiets pressing her cheek to the leather of his sleeveless jacket, and then her hands sneak around his slim waist. Almost inaudible sigh. His chin drops on top of her head. Both hold their breath, as if in fear of scaring each other away.

Strange night on even stranger planet. Wailing, screeching, sounds of creatures devouring each other, but for two of them there is nothing around, no one to witness their moment of weakness, because without such a moment even the toughest descends into the depth of madness and mindless slaughter.

It's a miracle that nothing has happened so far, after they have been, well, not yelling, but bitching rather loud and their companion should have heard them hundred times, but it seems like they decided not to interfere, who knows.

Little hungry eyes are staring at the pair – so mouthwatering and so close.

_'Two-legged. Female' – aroma suggests it – 'moves strange. Mating dance? Enticing her male? Something crazy? Around her – scary, hot. Dangerous. Thing. Too painful to attack.' Memory warns against it. _

_And she snaps to her senses. Looks towards hill's summit. _

_'Thing. Painful. Flickers. Dies out.'_

_Long tongue lols scenting air. In the crouch, ready to jump onto unsuspecting prey._

_She disappears. Dizziness._

_If the beast could swear… has to find some other, easier quarry. Gnawing hunger is excruciating._

_Then... Distant voices. Arguing. _

_'Food. Living. Breathing. And fresh.'_

_It runs as fast as possible, soil and small rocks burst from under his powerful paws._

'Male is skin and bones. Bury for a bad day. Supple female flesh – to sate him now. After – few days without hunting. His belly. Will be full'.

Ever so quietly beast prowls towards them.

Hunter wouldn't be himself, if he cannot detect an approaching threat, even from leeside. He stiffens, his hand reaches for the dagger – sniper rifle's not very handy at such close range and still securely strapped to his back.

Few things happen at once. Massive beast leaps. Shoving woman to the side Mordecai crouches with his dagger thrust forward. Animal flies over the human and falls in heap. Sharp blade has cut through its breast and soft belly. Man's chest and hands are covered in blood. But superficial wound doesn't stop alpha skag, standing up it turns and attacks again with a snarl. Hunter rolls to the side.

"Badass!"

Lilith activates her phasewalk, since she's already recovered form the last one.

'Hunter being hunted…'

The irony is not lost on Mordecai and not the fear, never fear, but excitement fills him to the brim.

'What a challenge!' Faithful dagger against a pile of meat and armour.

Blood is flowing in thin but steady steam, fire dances on skag's tough hide – Siren is somewhere nearby, but damage is still too low to weaken beast fast enough. Man waits for the right moment to get his weapon back – it is right between him and the enemy. New attack. But in one roll under the leaping animal, hunter gets his revolver. Turning abruptly he fires few times aiming for the head. High-pitched whining. Still alive. Then suddenly woman appears and effectively electrocutes the hell out of the badass scag.

"Damn, that was close. You okay?" wiping sweat off her brow she smiles, picking up her SMG attaches to her hip.

"Fuck! You took my kill!"

Hunter scowls disapprovingly and after reloading his revolver put it in the holster.

"Oh, so it's the first time for you? Shouldn't have wasted so much time. Besides, you always take my kills. It's only fair. I just saved your sorry ass, dickhead," declares woman cocking her hip and folding her hands, "nice one, by the way."

The last one is whispered and is obviously not meant for his ears. On that he smirks and walks closer. Towering above her Hunter begins to speak pensively, like weighting his options.

"I suppose… I have to thank you. For saving my life. Properly. What will you say?"

Brown eyes flash dangerously and she forces herself not to choke with surprise. Woman gives him once-over, even being that cock-sure and tough, he seems tense awaiting her answer.

"What do you have in mind?"

Cautious and wary.

With one bloodied hand he raises her chin. Glancing at her mouth lowers his head very slowly. When there is only an inch between them, Hunter stops and meets her stare. At his hungry look something fiery ripples down her spine. Grasping his dreadlocks with one hand Lilith crashes his lips to hers, jerks him closer by his hip. He traces her bottom lip with the flat of his tongue before suddenly biting it a little too hard. Using her gasp as permission invades her mouth forcefully.

Drunk on adrenalin from fight they are unable to stop. Grabbing woman under her thighs Mordecai easily lifts her higher so she can wrap her legs around him, and she does. His fingers dig little painfully into her skin. Feeling of burning starts anew.

Finally they break from each other. In between sucking and nipping slightly salty skin of her neck he can't not stop himself…

"So hot… so sweet… "

She moans. Her back is on fire. At the last words Phoenix wings spring to life.

"Lilith!" his awed whisper returns her to reality. Her eyes snap open to meet his. Lust and delight swirl in their depth, obvious even in the dim light. Another evidence of his hunger is pressed to her bottom. Biting her lip she glances away, embarrassed by her little self-control, her cheeks and ears red. Wings grow dim and almost invisible.

"Don't. Don't shut on me like that."

Close to her neck Hunter murmurs his request. Placing his palm between her shoulder blades, licks a long strip from her clavicle to ear.

"We are both adults and survived near-death experience. Think of all fun we will have... mm..."

"You are so sure about it."

Woman laughs masking her anxiety.

'So cocky'.

In response he lightly bites her left earlobe, sucks it into his mouth. She trembles, but pushes him back a little.

"What if there are other scags waiting to pounce on us. We should return to the camp."

Mordecai growls and presses her harder to himself.

"You are right, but don't think you're off the hook. I will have you."

Gulping nervously she nods.

"Okay."

Lowering her on unsteady legs, man grins and puts possessive palm on the swell of her hip. His hot breath scorches her neck.

"I'll take you and you will be beggin' for more…"

Her golden eyes close involuntary…

* * *

><p><em>Flashbacks<em>

'Thoughts'

"Dialogs"


	2. Chapter 2

Apartment is small – one room, kitchenette, bathroom – simple, without numerous posters and newspapers used as wallcoverings, but plain and old light-green wallpapers.

Helen Pierce has been the most gracious allowing vault-hunters to choose a place to stay in that god-forsaken hell-hole, that she is administrator of. There have been enough options, previous owners confirmed dead or missing.

Woman has chosen this one, because it's the cleanest and plumbing works just fine – which is a real miracle of itself.

It's not like they are going to settle down or live there for real. Just rest and lick their wounds, because the ones living such a dangerous life of killing and adventuring shouldn't stay in one place for long.

She has paid $50 to some crazy lady for cleaning the place and finding some linen to cover a lumpy mattress.

Long day is finally gone and twilight reigns. She's tired and ready to go to bed earlier but loud knocking at the door stop woman in her tracks. She laces her shoe again and grabbing her SMG, creeps to the entrance as quiet as possible.

'Constant vigilance is not a bad motto, especially here'.

Pressing her back to the wall on one side she strains her ear trying to determine who the uninvited guest is.

"It's me."

Woman relaxes recognizing the voice. Unlocking the door throws it open.

Irritated Siren stares Hunter down, her eyebrows raised in silent question.

"Really? What do you want?"

Bored and disinterested expression of his masked face doesn't fool her.

"Will you invite me in?"

Stepping aside she lets him enter. Closes and locks the door.

'Vigilance, remember'.

His sharp eyes scan the room briefly. Confidently he marches up to the small but sturdy table in the farthest corner, to the right from the window with smudged glass.

Disbelievingly Siren watches as man removes sniper rifle from behind his back, carefully lays it on the scratched surface, that is littered with stains of unknown origin. Then goes his revolver, and finally – the dagger in worn leather scabbard.

Finally he faces woman, who stands unmoving near the entrance, and grins evilly.

"I hope you don't mind if I stay the night."

Fury and incredulity are warring inside her mind.

'What a nerve! Arrogant ass'.

"What the hell?"

She folds her hands on her chest. He leans back on the table.

His face is blank and only whitening of his fingers gripping the edge show his uncertainty. He has taken a great risk coming to her unbidden.

"You're forgetting our deal."

"We don't have any deal!"

Light from settling sun bathes him in red, as if his body is covered in blood. He inclines his head a little and his voice is husky with barely restrained hunger.

"We should finish what we started."

She glances away quickly, embarrassed.

She'd like that too but on her own terms. After three weeks without even a glimpse of him – he disappeared right after they returned from that arid lands. And she is not amused.

'Should have left the town too, when had a chance. Too late for running'.

"Um… why now?"

She's buying herself some time to think.

She'd like to have him, but… 'He could be dangerous…'

"I couldn't wait any longer."

One of her elegant eyebrows raises skeptically.

"Oh, do tell."

He doesn't bat an eye at her mocking.

"I want you. That's all."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

That simplifies almost everything.

They measure up each other silently. Hunter waits for her to make the first step. And Siren doesn't disappoint.

She walks slowly, like a predator on the prowl. Her hips swaying. Her full lips moist and ready. Standing close to him she reaches around him to lay her weapon near his.

Then woman does what she has wanted for too long. Her nimble fingers run the length of his chest, going higher and higher, going for the clasp under his chin, but he covers them with his gloved palm.

"No… allow me…"

His self-control is not that steady as man wishes her to believe. So close Lilith notices how his hands tremble just a little bit, when he takes off his mask.

Nothing unusual and new but the very act of revealing his face so trustfully before her… It takes Siren's breath away.

"Mordy…"

Her own hands are shaking when they are tracing his cheeks and eyebrows, dark as soot. Hunter holds his breath as if she's a skittish animal he doesn't want to frighten off.

Laying her hand on the back of his neck she lowers his head to meet her mouth. And that's when all the trepidation and cautiousness disappear – with the simpliest of the contacts.

Touch of his lips is like a hidden threat, like an obvious promise to tear her open, to uncover her for his want.

Grabbing her waist in one fluid motion he moves them around. Seating woman at the edge of the old table he pulls her thighs apart to stand between them.

Strong fingers grasping her shoulders, her sides, leaving not an inch untouched.

Impatient he tugs her soft corset-like top down, baring her breasts for his hungry eyes and mouth. Markings only accentuate alabaster of her skin. He traces them with his tongue.

She gasps, chest heaving. In response unzips his jacket forcefully and shoves it from his shoulders. Next goes his t-shirt. Skin to skin.

'Finally'.

His full lips are twisted in cruel and smug smile, which vanishes when she nibbles on his ear.

'No quarter'. He won't stop until she's his entirely, until she's devoured whole.

Brown half-crazed eyes caress her along with his hands.

Like a drowning man Hunter holds her close. Wicked mouth that is so skillful in throwing sarcastic and biting jests teases underside of her jaw…

His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows heavily.

'Way too much power over me'.

Woman smiles lazily, fully aware of what she's doing to him and that infuriates him more than anything.

She has to burn and he'll make sure of that.

Grabbing fistful of her hair – desire tinged with pain excites her further – he tilts her head back, licks and nips at her throat, sucks hard at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Leaving the mark, his mark. She inhales brokenly, swallows convulsively.

Her heart reminds him a little bird beating at the bars of its cage. 'Birdlover', remembers he.

What an interesting twist to his thoughts.

Spreading of her wings fills the room with bright light.

'So who has the power now?'

The question dances in his mind. But it's short-live though. Gyrating her hips Lilith keens without shame. He groans, sliding his hands over inner side of her jeans-clad thighs.

"…Need to have you. Now…"

'He sure likes to be in command'.

Taking woman down from the table turns her around.

'Just how I likes it'.

Pushing her fiery hair to the side Hunter lays feverish kisses along the back of her neck, making her shudder and moan. Opening her jeans jerks them down her hips to her knees, along with the underwear. Her wings are pleasantly warm against his chest, when he leans closer.

Exposed skin of her bottom rubs against coarse fabric, and the feeling is delicious. Woman struggles to keep herself upright gripping the edge of the table.

When he can't wait any longer pulls down his cargo pants and boxers.

And finally… His promise to her becomes true…

She's all around him. She is the fiend fire, the heat that engulfs him, burns him to the core…

"So tight. So wet. And so… mine…"

* * *

><p>AN. I do like how he says those three adjectives, when you meet him in the second game for the fist time.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

"God damn, stop it, Lilith!" he glares at her, believing her statement to be just some feeble excuse to finish… things between them. But she is firm. Folding her hands on her chest returns an angry stare of her own.

"You know, I'm doing the right thing. I really can't control it. I. Have. To. Go. After that accident…"

He interrupts her, furious.

"There was only one, hear me, one! And that fucking eridium is the one to blame. You just have to avoid that stuff. After that everything would be okay…"

Nibbling at her bottom lip she glances away ashamed. He catches her expression and his face falls, his voice incredulous.

"You… you won't… damn it! You want to try that again? Am I right, Lil? Am I right?"

_Three of them – Brick searches for new enemies with bigger muscles and even bigger guns so he can destroy them all in new and inventive ways – are looking for trouble in some rocky valley. And before them is the gaping entrance to the mine which was not there before. _

_When the four of them were visiting the location three weeks ago at least. There are few crates full of unrefined eridium inside indicating what is being extracted there. _

_They gleefully dispatch an incoming group of slagged psychos and nomads, and gathering all they could find turn to leave._

_Roland, as always sharp-witted, voices his observations that have been bothering him for the last thirty minutes in the mine._

"_Lilith, you are glowing purple. And your wings? They are still visible"_

"_Yeah, maybe I'm just in the riiight mood," answers Lilith. _

_She seems drunk a little and playfully winks at Mordecai, who leers at her with a promise, but goes on._

_Soldier just rolls his eyes and stomps ahead of them. But his words give her an idea. _

_'Purple?'_

_She approaches one of the crates – iridescent eridium gleam in dim light – some strange feeling like a tug, right beneath her shoulder blades where her fiery wings are still present. Her hand instinctively snatches the smallest chunk. _

_Warm to the touch and heavier than she's imagined. 'How interesting…'_

_And without a second thought woman puts it in her little backpack._

"_Are you coming, Lilith?"_

_Mordecai is almost at the entrance. She jogs after him hastily._

"_Well, if you try hard enough, than – yesss."_

_They snicker, sharing a secret look._

_After return to New Haven little celebration is in order. Just like every other week – their new tradition after defeating the Destroyer._

_Damn hard was it. If not for the team work they would have become a nice shish kebab, like Stelle._

_After few shots of whisky Lilith feels relaxed and tired – fatigue is finally catching up with her. All day long they have been encountering badasses of all possible types. Supporting her heavy head with a fist she is starting to doze off. Polishing off his rakkale, Mordecai slams empty bottle on the counter. Woman starts and glares at him. But he just smirks._

"_Come on. You're not going to sleep here, am I right?"_

_Sluggishly Siren stands up and leans on him, tugging at one of his course dreadlocks._

"_Yeah, let's go."_

_Bidding their farewell to lonely looking Roland, who's absently stares at the raws of bottles behind the barman, they pay for drinks and leave. _

_Shrill whistle to summon Hunter's loyal bird, which has been flying in circles above the bar. Bloodwing hates crowded rooms with stupid drunken people looking at her funny and master never allows to claw at them, even a little bit. Pity. Sitting on his shoulder she nuzzles his temple covered with red cloth._

"_Yeah, you're a very good girl, Blood."_

_Lilith chuckles – she has never been bothered by their relationships._

_'Everyone has to have some anchor in the life: Mordy has his bird, I have my Siren heritage, Brick has his blood lust, and Roland… well, seems like he is in search still'._

_Swaying a little they cut short distance to their… humble abode… Mordecai refuses to call it home. Quick shower to get rid of all dirt, dried blood and brain matter, collected during the day._

_In response to the hand slowly wandering to her breasts, Lilith lazily kisses the corner of Hunter's mouth and drowsily murmurs her refusal._

"_Later, Mordy, I'm sooo tired."_

_He sighs and draws woman closer._

"_Yeah, me too," and promptly conks out._

_Some feeling jolts Lilith out of her sleep. Mordecai lying on his stomach and hugging pillow is dead to the world, but at her movement starts to stir. She lays her palm on his naked shoulder and Hunter relaxes. Bloodwing blinks at her owlishly but seeing no threat hides her head under wing. _

_Very carefully she climbs out of their bed and makes a quick visit to the restroom. Deciding that she needs some water takes a bottle from tiny fridge under the table and moistens her parched throat with few silent gulps. _

_Something flashes in her peripheral vision. Tensing and ready to activate her phasewalk she turns very slowly to her left. And… relaxes spotting an eridium chunk in her opened backpack that lies on the seat of ugly and old chair they're using instead of a wardrobe. Half-covered by the jeans with leather patches and cargo pants the purple substance glints in the light pouring from window. _

_Instinctively she picks it up. _

_'Such a rich color, so calming, soothing.'_

_She can feel how the substance resonates with these incredible siren powers, that are kind of running low after exhausting day. Mesmerized she rolls it in her palm. And then suddenly purple matter dissolves into dense fog. Surprised woman shakes her hand, but it clings to her skin, and then soaks into it. Rush of energy so revitalizing and powerful fills her to the brink. Gasping she arches her back. _

_'Like being born anew'. _

_Awed Siren watches her markings glowing and bathing her in purple light._

"_What the fuck?!" she turns abruptly – Mordecai clad only in his black short boxers with feather print sits on the bed staring open-mouthed at her naked body shining in the dark room._

_Intoxicated hunger rips through her. Woman walks to him, exaggeratedly swaying her hips. Standing between his opened legs kisses his brow._

"_Everything's okay, Mordy. I believe... eridium somehow connected to my powers."_

_Skeptically __he palms her sides and nuzzles underside of her breasts._

"_You sure?"_

_She nods and carefully combs her fingers through the dreadlocks at the back of his head._

"_You're glowing. Not like… usual… I mean."_

_She knows what he is saying, what is trying to say – even unable to distinguish colors he can see the difference in grey hues._

"_Just like eridium."_

_His eyes snap to her alarmed._

"_Remember that mine. I took a little chunk. And somehow it evaporated and my skin just… absorbed it."_

_Now he is terrified._

"_Did it hurt? Show me where?"_

_Woman just laughs huskily and rubs his earlobe between her fingers._

"_It's okay. It didn't hurt. Promise. Was even… mmm… kind of pleasant. And you know… I feel… rested enough."_

_Reassured he grins and strokes the skin around her hip-bones. Firey sensation shoots right to her core. She can't hold her gasp. Caressing inner side of her thighs, he licks a long trail from her navel, over breast – avoiding her nipple on purpose – to clavicle…_

_She has never been that aroused before. _

_'Perhaps that eridium stuff has more to it. Or the Phoenix is really…'_

_His fingers slip toward her heat and man glances up at her with surprise. Few strokes are enough…_

"_Damn, that was quick," licking his fingers clean, Mordecai smirks, "it seems like you're more than okay."_

_Impatient Siren shoves him onto his back and crawls atop, predatory look on her smiling face…_

…_Impossibly tight coil snaps and she spasms around him, taking Hunter along into the plunge…_

…_Stiffing suddenly, he painfully digs his fingers into the soft skin of her flaring hips. She cries out surprised and opens her eyes searching his face. Which is contorted with pain._

"_What is it, Mordy?_

_Her bone-deep pleasure is replaced by bone-chilling dread. __Woman doesn't resist when he grabs her shoulders and forces her to bend towards him. Hissing through tightly clenched teeth he explains in gasps._

"_Your… wings…"_

_She tries to turn around to take a look, but Hunter holds her in place, so that immovable fire is not aligned with his legs. Squeezing his eyes shut he continues with pained voice._

"_Make them disappear. Now!"_

_Horrified, Lilith wills them to retreat back, but they just won't obey. _

_He watches her ashen face biting his lip so he won't make a sound. _

_'Hurts like hell'. _

_Finally flame wings die out. Very carefully he lifts woman and sets her aside. Skin on his knees and lower half of thighs are covered with blisters. Seeing his wounds she bursts in tears._

"_Damn, Mordy, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"_

_Furious Bloodwing is ready to attack but a firm stare from Hunter stops her. Offended bird croons something and warily watches naked and mortified woman, who has hurt her master._

_Carefully he raises and goes to shower._

_'Some cold… okay warm… water should help a bit, than - some salve. Sure Dr. Zed has something for burns…'_

Woman avoids looking at him. 'She won't waver', she tells herself. Her words are measured and slow.

"It is important. It gets with everything I…" finally daring to meet his eyes, draws a deep breath, "with everything I am. And I am Siren, or did you forget? I have to know more, to learn what I am and what I could be. And one of us is already dead…"

Scowling he paces the room they have been sharing for few months.

For some time it has became their lair, because you can hardly call that a home, place, which you visit only to catch some sleep, shower, get drunk or have a fuck.

She believes that he, of all people, should be able to understand.

'Later… Maybe… There are thing a person should do alone. And it is one of such things'.

"I need some time away…"

Her palms are raised up so she won't be interrupted.

"It's not because of you. Promise."

Mordecai looks unconvinced, his jaw clenched and mouth twisted in anger.

Meager belonging are already shoved into the little backpack on their bed, that is little wider than the most on that freaking planet. She's brought herself to tell him only after packing her things. 'Scene is… not a nice one'.

Glancing at her things he clenches his fists. Man thinks, how he'd like toyell at her.

'Pointless. When she decides something…'

Woman sighs and moves towards him trying to embrace. But he recoils and whirls to face her.

"Stop it! Wanna leave? Leave now. You just tell me and don't leave me a fucking choice."

Bloodwing caws in distress, sensing master's resentment and confusion. Exasperated woman throws her hands up…

"I could have left without a word and you'd be none the wiser. Fine. I'm leaving."

She doesn't want to. But even if the burns on lower part of his thighs and knees are healed weeks ago, Siren knows what is needed to be done. Grabbing her backpack and picking up Malivan SMG with electrical rounds from table she slams the door.

Hunter mutely stands in the center of their…

'…No, my… now it's only my room…'

He doesn't notice his bird crying out saddened, all his sharp senses are numb.

"I need… I think I need a drink… now…"

Somehow her departure miraculously concurs with attack on New Haven that results in destruction of town and death of so many good people. Now the only ones knowing Lilith to be alive are Mordecai and Roland.

Friends scattered all over the damned planed, it seems like no one is interested in their whereabouts. For some time.

Bullet turns into burst, glass of liquor turns into bottle, two, five, and day turns into year.

* * *

><p><em>Siren is burning alive. Sweat flowing in rivulets. Still she continues her primal dance. Round and round. Faster and stronger. Wings unfolding. Purple glowing.<em>

_Hunter is burning alive. Liquor is clawing at his empty stomach. Empty, because food tastes like ashes. Gulp after gulp. Welcomed numbness. Closer and closer. Bloodwing's sorrowful cry._

_Soldier is burning alive. He finally has a purpose on this planet and it shines like a beacon through the darkest night to all the loyal who agreed to follow his lead. Into the fight. Into Sanctuary. Into Resistance._


	4. Chapter 4

_Leaving New Haven is the right choice, because very soon the problem becomes obvious to Siren. Eridum has triggered some strange mutation and in the next encounter with a bunch of raiders she thinks that she's finished – her phasewalk deactivates right in the crossfire. But luck is on her side and badly injured Lilith barely makes it using all of __grenades__ at once. Transfusion mod is the most helpful._

_She keeps low profile, hides in abandoned caves. For few months she's forced to live like that. Relying on gun power and stealth. Too often she uses sniper rifles and that's pathetic and ironic, how such a simple motion can evoke memories, better left buried…_

_Finally she feels ready to contact her friends. And Roland is the best choice…_

The end of they relationships though short and not that deep still nags at him. Mordecai ends up in the Underdome – his greed for challenge and loot causes that new obsession to manifest. Testing himself, playing with death. And predictably the winner ends up in Moxxi's bed or whatever she uses for her carnal adventures.

…Being near him gives her calm and piece almost palpable. Such an unexpected feeling. They dissolve in each other. Lilith and Roland disappear, only "them" remains.

The rise of her Phoenix isn't a walk in the park. Roland soothes the raging beast inside of her, which tries to claw its way out, conquer her person, turn her into a mindless killing machine and go on rampage.

Like the planet around her Siren transforms and changes.

Harnessing her powers makes it possible to develop some sort of friend-or-foe system. Finally she can fight alongside of her allies without fear of harming them with her flame wings or aura, even with eridium, which hasn't been possible before.

Many hours of meditations, practicing and Soldier helping her with trying out the new tactic. They use the most powerful thermal shield they can find.

'Too bad that Hunter is busy… fucking Mad Moxxi…'

Lilith finds out from Scooter, the boy's mouth is really big. It doesn't really matter who has moved on first – life on Pandora is too short and dangerous to count days since she has left – 'four months and twelve days' – and then Hunter has started spending his days either shooting, or between busty woman's legs.

She doesn't blame them; it's in dark-haired woman's nature to live dangerously, crazy and so on. All the same that annoys her to no ends.

'All over again, the same old shit. Being left by the woman. Would be funny of not that insulting. Yeah. One leaves me for eridium… No…'

He corrects himself reluctuntly.

'Let''s face it - she left fearing for my safety – accidentally injuring or killing one's lover is not very nice'.

'What about the Mad one? But to think about it – not at all unexpected. Serious relationships? Bah! Marriage? Good riddance! But leaving for Handsome Jack? It's just plain crazy… well, she's got that name not for her kinks. And if she has had that Mr. Shank as her second husband…'

At least his still has his favorite slag sniper rifle, dagger and Bloodwing, the very same. Spending his days drinking and preying on some freaking bandits is not the worst pastime. What else should he do with his life? Always moving, always searching for better loot, better kills…

Then happens the most unexpected thing – at least to him – he's involved into Resistance – spying and scouting, and otherwise helping Roland, who's fucking Lilith…

More drinking and more killing help to forget …

* * *

><p>"Listen, this can't continue like that…"<p>

Soldier's face is grim and determined. Woman sighs but refuses to look at him.

'Two weeks without a blip on her radar and now he finally wants to clear the air. So kind of him. Being in this cave for two months communicating briefly only with some stray bandits – if it's possible to call the process of killing them a conversation. It's a straight way to become like Tannis…'

She doesn't know what to expect but the seriousness of his voice makes her nervous. Involuntary she clutches at the collar of her sleeveless jacket, worn beyond recognition.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have all day and we need to talk now. Will you please look at me?"

He never chooses his words well, but Siren is just too tired to be offended at the lack of tact.

He's always in hurry, always has things to think over, plans to hatch, strategies to develop. She can't blame him for who he is, because without Roland they all could have been dead long ago and that's not an overstatement.

Slowly she turns to face him.

"Okay… Let's talk."

Now it's his turn to sigh.

"I want you to know that first and foremost I am your friend…"

That makes her frown, already she doesn't like the way their conversation is turning to.

"But…"

"Please, hear me out."

He shakes his head at the skeptic expression on Siren's face.

"Yes, that's right. Friend."

His pauses to think over how to express the turmoil he feels. She tenses in apprehension. His next words are totally unexpected.

"I care for you deeply, but we… I… I can't go on like this. We have to finish doing this."

Or maybe she has known from the very beginning and always expected…

"I'm getting too distracted on our… our… these relationships… I can't… allow getting distracted…"

Roland doesn't say that, but of course she knows very well, that when he's distracted good people die. Woman wants to be angry and just can't.

'What a nice guilt trap'.

Not because of some people dying, well it's not the only one reason why woman feels guilty, but for she hasn't been honest with him entirely.

And his cause is indisputably much bigger than her hurt feelings, or some twisted wish for petty revenge, or even desire to be comforted in loving arms. And she's bad, bad person who lies to other by omission, even worse – she lies to herself…

He stands tall. He stands firm. Even with burden lying heavily on his broad and strong shoulders.

He can allow himself not a weakness. And he knows more than is credited for.

"Remember, how two of us were fighting Crimson lances trying to get Athena out of the prison…"

For some time Siren couldn't get used to mercenaries becoming their allies or, at least, to the majority of them joining the ranks of Resistance.

At first she was used to grabbing her SMG seeing the red armor of infantrymen or engineers.

Indeed, sometimes war makes very strange bedfellows…

So many weird things have happened since they got off Marcus' rickety old bus. So many mysterious and ridiculous things are done.

"Yeah, what about that? Not the nicest memories."

Soldier forces himself to go on.

"In one of the weapon crates you found the ranger's mod."

Siren freezes remembering, even if that was such a trivial detail, but somehow it's engraved into her memory.

'Their mission after her talk with Scooter'.

_Expensive construction of metal and plastic mocks and taunted her with its shining interface. She is overwhelmed with desire to throw it from the tallway and enjoy the sound of smashing it to the bits. So enraged and hateful._

"Really? I don't remember."

Her wording is cautious and wary.

'Is it possible that he has noticed something amiss?'

"I told you then to keep it for Mordecai. And your hands started to shake, so I took the mod from you. Before that little thing we had been laughing and joking, but after seeing it… you didn't talk for almost an hour. Strange, isn't it?"

Woman averts her eyes, these traitorous windows of one's soul.

"I'm not very good in feelings department, but even I figured that out finally."

She fiddles with her belt, busing her hands.

"At first I thought very little of it. It's hard to miss how you two communicate, or rather avoid being in the same room at all costs. You were used to make fun of each other before. But now…"

Lilith covers her mouth with her palms. Breathing deeply tries to calm herself down.

"But when we met Wilhelm…"

…When Hunter was wounded, badly. Almost seven months ago, but the memory remains clear and no less horrifying… They… she almost lost him… Hour after hour sitting mute and numb, with countless voices trapped inside her head screaming and wailing while he was being patched up…

_Through__ the __cacophony__ of explosions and bursts of fire that shot rings the loudest._

"_Mordecai!"_

_Scream tears out from the very soul._

_He freezes… but for the short moment. His blood fly everywhere like in slow motion and he falls… falls… endlessly. Down and down. His hands spread out like he's hovering. Expression astonished. She reaches out mindlessly but she can't catch him… too far… And he falls…_

_She disappears in the flash of purple and in the next moment kneels near him – it's ten meters further from her previous spot. There is a gaping hole right in the middle of his chest. Not an instant-health in sight, but then woman spots the biggest loot crate to the right… _

_'Just please… please… be there… stay with me…'_

…_and runs towards it. Her cold fingers convulsively grab syringe with red liquid sloshing inside, almost breaking it in the process…_

_Bone and flesh knot slowly, too slowly. Fragile glass ca__n't__ withstand such a strong grip and shards cut her palm. Siren doesn't notic blinded by bone-chilling dread. Hunter is still unconscious. Fight rages around them but in the eye of the storm they're immobilized…_

…_He comes to after two days. "No promises", that's what has told them Dr. Zed. _

_The worst fourty-six hours in her life… She doesn't sit with him all the time, even if wants to, but they are not allowed to…_

_When he finally opens his eyes she teleports far away, where no one can find her, no one can hear her shouting, and drinks herself silly…_

'He barely made it…'

And that was the first time she found out about her ability to teleport.

"You rushed to his side. I had never heard anyone screaming like that. Like having one's heart cut out alive. If we didn't manage to escape that time…"

Woman trembles all over, muffling her involuntary sob with her fist. Soldier sighs and lays his palms onto her slender shoulders.

"Listen, Lilith… You see, I don't really know how to talk about such stuff… But your feelilngs are obvious even to me…"

"I…"

"We have to stop before we go too far… too deep into this. I can't allow that."

'Yes, before _I_ am too deep and won't be able to stay sane'.

Even if his words are unintentionally hurtful, they do not penetrate her thick cocoon of guilt and shame.

"Moreover, the main reason is that we need you to stay safe. Remember, no one should know about your existance. And we're doing the opposide. We have to finish this. I'm sorry. Maybe one day, when Resistance wins and you no longer feel that way about him…"

Woman faces him, in need to see his eyes. To understand the finality that sounds in his voice. Tears fall unbidden. Mostly because their talk has lifted the heavy weight off her mind.

She couldn't tell anybody about the complicated mess that is her feelings and reasons she is going mad, besides from being trapped in that freaking cave, without a living soul to talk. She clenches her fists feeling how nails cut into her palms. Nods brokenly.

She does love Roland, but not enough… not in the way he really deserves to be loved…

She's sure upset but at the same time feels strangely relieved. At the sight of her tear-streaked face man hurriedly searches for a handkerchief, but Siren shakes her head trying to smile.

"I'm sorry. You should know that you're really dear to me… even… even if there's some misplaced feelings for h…"

"Stop, Lilith. You're my fried. Always was and always will be…"

He leans down and brotherly kisses her brow.

He man has been delaying the talk for some time… to snatch few moments of peace himself… but… alas… more waiting just has been killing him… 'Better doing it like tearing off band-aid…'

"As you are."

He grins easily.

"It's okay. We'll handle everything…"

Roland is not a saint, that's why keeps his silence and says nothing, adds nothing…

Though he has so many words… To describe how the other man's look always strayed to Siren, thinking that his mask could cover his longing expression, how he tensed every time she entered the room and tried to leave earlier; how they gravitated towards each other…

But that was before she went in hiding…

Soldier is not a saint and won't help them, but he's not a bad man either so he won't impede if these two would finally find the guts to mend that fragile thing that was growing between them few years ago.

…He arrived to the decision to step aside in that trying moment when they almost lost their dear friend. Hearing woman's name whispered by dying man in drug-induced delirium illuminated everything at last…

But still it is hard, but he hides his feeling, bury them.

'It's not love, but it would have been, given time'.

He stops himself from getting too deep into this.

'I can't allow such a distraction'.

That's what he repeats to himself, over and over. But remembering his goal makes it much easier, because it is bigger than him, or other vault-hunters. And with renewed purpose he can live further.

Because all these people, despite how bad or crazy they are, under his protection, his responsibility, and he'll fight for them until his last breath…

* * *

><p>And thus Lilith reluctantly continues playing Firehawk, liquefying stuff is pretty awesome, though. Their intimate relationships with Soldier are in the past.<p>

They don't pretend that everything's okay, because it's not, but time and distance placate them somewhat, allow them to reconcile. She knows that she's treated him badly leading him on like that, but he has almost forgiven her. He's better person than she is, though he would vehemently deny that.

Few times she breaks echo silence, and every time Rolands reprimands her. Woman wants to tear her hair out. Her solitude, or better call it exile, sometimes drives her crazy. Alone, only with her thoughts bouncing inside her head so very loudly, blinding and deafening her. She tries sleeping more, reads, tinkers with shields, but that's not enough. She dances…

**Arrival of new vault-hunters puts a stop to that madness…**

And she's glad when that sham is done for the best and she can walks freely, at least in the Sanctuary. But that brings new distraction… or rather the old one…


	5. Chapter 5

They are learning to communicate with each other. Don't have much of a choice, although nobody has told them that explicitly. Silent treatment isn't going to help in their common case. After all, it does complicate all those planning, scheming, waging war. Plain suspicious and childish, raising unnecessary questions.

'Not amusing, not at all,' thinks she petulantly.

Few disappointed glances from Roland and long heated debate with herself and Siren decides that too much time is spent on these games of theirs.

'Enough is enough'.

Night after night lying sleepless in her bed until the dawn, but still unable to find a solution that would magic the problem away. The task maintaining a cheerful façade when you have five hours of fitful sleeping and then stay awaken for twenty five is kind of arduous.

'So, what are the options? Apologize? For what? They both have done enough to hurt each others, and it is unknown, who has to be sorry and try to make amends. But thinking like that will have them going in circles on and on. There must be some starting point, time to have a zero point, so to speak'.

Roland – downstairs. Few minutes – more than enough. Yeah, the chosen decision is the cowardly one. Forcing herself to do more – 'Not possible… no… no other way around…'

Nevertheless these mysterious eyes of hers look guilty… and clearing of a throat – forced… The journey of thousand miles begins…

'It is much easier than swallowing one's pride or have some… brrr… bloodcurdling heart-to-heart talks about hard truths and even harder confessions, or worse – rejections. Better pretend like nothing has ever happened, like there are only four of them, travelling, adventuring their lives, bantering and just being friends. Without burdens or responsibilities. This should be the thing. It never hurts to try, doesn't it? The person, who invented this bullshit obviously was delusional or had never tried to mend relationships between former lovers…'

But the devil is not as black as he is painted, or Hunter is a coward too… not stupid though.

Mordecai sees though the ruse from the very beginning, but plays along…

Patching the resemblance of the friendship between them is painful and insufferable… sometimes it seems impossible…

Majority of their conversations are focused on Resistance and war, which is not surprising, considering that woman lives in headquarters and he visits with reports after sorties, in case he's not drunk as a bastard…

Not the most exciting lifestyle, but now the front lines belong to the young and reckless…

One word here, two words there…

Lilith tries to be amicable, even when… especially when Hunter is sullen and violent. Sometimes her forced cheerfulness sets his teeth on edge and sometimes he wants to strangle her…

Mordecai seems tired; it's not clear whether it's his life he is tired of, or something else. His bones feel old. His blood runs slow. He almost never smiles; deep scowl is etched into his face. That constant sitting kills him slowly, more than alcoholism does. He's like a rolling stone forced into the iron setting of a ring.

But he is not alone in the suffering. Like cancer the war is eating them inside out. Wearing them thin, wearing them away.

All of them are dying slowly, endlessly. All of them are going mad in their own special way.

Everything focalizes at that fucking war, every thought, every action; no one is allowed to mind their own business. Survival at its finest. Nothing brings comfort or pleasure.

And guilt, guilt is the worst. If there's something you're doing, then – too little, thinking – not that hard, working – not diligent enough…

Like a big fat leech sucking up all the color from the life. They are not soldiers, but forced to be the ones…

Roland is little bit more resistant, but sometimes he feels it too, the insurmountable hurdle pressing him down…

* * *

><p>Leaning on the doorframe she opens her mouth to say hello... but words stuck in her throat. Body freezes. And something cold, bitter cold rends her chest.<p>

'He was laughing… so that is why…'

Very carefully, trying not to make a sound she exhales slowly through her mouth and pries her numb fingers from the doorpost, turning silently walks downstairs.

'Deep breaths. In and out. Bite the lip. Not a word. He is a free person and it doesn't bother… nope… not at all… why should it? It's all in the past'.

* * *

><p>Maybe she's not that experienced but the matter glaring in her face is just too obvious to be dismissed as a coincidence.<p>

Her navy-blue hair plays with cyan highlights when she smoothes it, while discreetly studying man to her right. Just a moment ago he has been laughing, but now his face is expressionless, not unlike the mask carved form dark wood.

As an animal sensing its prey and preparing for attack he is sitting stiff on the dirty couch. Staring at the doorway. Nostrils flare as if he's sniffing the very air.

Bloodwing shifts from foot to foot on the red-clad shoulder.

Woman doesn't need Hunter's sharp senses… Few weeks in the company of new friends and she can detect the presence of the other Siren unmistakably. They two seem attuned to each other.

Just like every one of her kind, Maya possesses her own unique ability that has been developing further and further in the course of last week.

Longing and bitterness are so prominent on the masked face that she feels uncomfortable…

It doesn't matter how stealthily she treads, Mordecai cannot miss her… her presence is the physical thing that triggers some sort of an instinct in him.

He wanders, whether would he be able to find her without Bloodwing's help, whom he trained to find his friends at any time? 'Perhaps. Who knows? That's for her… and for her alone…'

The conversation with Maya somewhat distracted him from gloomy thoughts.

'Kid is really funny'. He couldn't help but laugh at that stupid joke about a freaking midget and a slag shotgun…

Raising his head he meets woman's eyes, which try to see through his green goggles… a chill travels down his spine from that penetrating gaze…

"Lilith was here."

He looks surprised but masks it with careless shrug.

Cyan-eyed Siren dangles her feets excitedly. She's really fond of sitting on the tables. And this time is not an exeption. Instead of sitting next to him on the old couch she's chosen that unstable piece of furniture. The plate with crumpets lies on her lap. Thoughtfully she takes one, after examining it from different angles, even sniffing, finds it to her liking and takes a large bite.

"Mmm? Tasty."

Resting his right foot on bended knee, Hunter asks, with indifference, as he believes.

"What of it?"

He's guarded again. That doesn't go unnoticed by Siren. Her keen gaze snaps to him, like with a dagger she bares his thoughts for her perusal and amusement. The innocence of the pretty face hides sharp wit and even sharper tongue.

"I think, there is a history between you and her."

Caught off his balance he exhales abruptly.

"It's not your business!"

Her musical laugh startles him.

"No denying it, though. Which was to be proved."

'Such crude manipulations. Played me for a fool, which I really am'.

Angered, man wants to leave immediately, but doesn't stand up mesmerized by her stare, pinned cruelly like one of these bright butterflies.

"Children. Holding grudges. Unable to make even a tiny step forward."

"You don't know what you are talking about, Siren."

He spits words with venom and contempt. But it doesn't faze her in the slightest.

"So it's 'Siren' now, right? How quaint…"

She plays with her hair and on his nerves. She dissects him like a rare bug. At least that's how he takes it.

"It's really interesting, you know."

Enraged at being studied like some specimen in laboratory Hunter can't understand the meaning of her words, which irritates him further.

Siren eyes hold him captive; she watches him, just like a cobra staring its quarry down.

"You call me 'Siren'… and I heard you calling Lilith like that."

Mask doesn't hide the perplexed frown on his face.

"You don't understand it, Mordecai, do you? Yes, that's what we are. But! It doesn't make us callous and soulless bitches. Just human beings. Not strangers to fear, empathy, hate… affection."

Man is ashamed, he really is, but the resentment is… Too bitter. Too strong and deep-rooted.

He's unable to get free of it.

"Could have fooled me…"

Half-whispered words tell her enough…

What Maya feels is pity, not sympathy, because these two have done it to themselves and there's no one to blame even if they would like to.

'Maybe a little nudge in the right direction is in order.'

"… And jealousy… that I can tell for sure…"

Now his face turns incredulous; woman smirks self-pleased and rolls her eyes.

"Come on, dude. Do I have to explain everything?"

'Yep, seems like that'.

She sighs exasperated.

"We are laughing, right? And, instead of coming in and asking what's so funny, she runs. Duh. Doesn't ring a bell?"

Mordecai just shakes his head, his lips twist disdainfully.

"You are seeing things, kiddo."

Finishing her crumpet she flashes a bright smile and jumps off the table. Only at the entrance she turns.

"Think how you can use that information, oldie…"

Winking she leaves.

Frown is etched deep into his brow, but these words of her plant few seeds of doubt though…

Maya finds woman sitting on the bench in front of the personal transformation machine, on the main Sanctuary's square.

Sensing her approach, Lilith raises her gaze – emotionless, even cool – like she's trying to hide the turmoil of her thoughts. And fails.

Navy-haired woman really likes her, maybe even admires her – so badass. And loyal without coercion.

There are so many things she would have to learn, to develop her powers like the older Siren has.

'Preferably without that eridium junk'.

"Is this seat taken?"

At the joking tone Lilith tenses, just a little bit, but then sighing deeply gestures for her to sit down.

'She is not the one to be blamed, she doesn't know, or understand, what's this all about'.

Some time they sit quietly, not uncomfortably. Looking into the distance beyond the old and dirty walls of the town around them, and not seeing them. Twilight casts long and gloomy shadows over the square.

Younger woman lies her head on the right shoulder of other. Sighing again Lilith put her hand around her.

"You know, you are like a sister I have never had."

'And she really is'.

Maya's words are sincere and some tension bleeds from older Siren's frame. Warm feeling floods her chest.

"Yeah? Thanks, I guess."

'That is why some things are needed to be done'.

"You know… I wanted to tell you. There is someone I like. Very much."

Her words are deliberate and measured.

Lilith stiffens again, but stays silent.

'If I play it carefully, few people will be less unhappy'.

"And I'd like to know what his face looks like in reality."

Still silent, however Maya can see how her cheeks and ears are reddening.

"And I think he likes me too…"

At that Siren can't stand it any longer and rises sharply.

'Don't want to hear that, don't make me. Please. Please'.

Silently she pleads with her friend. More than anything she wants to cover her ears with her palms and howl. Despair has a corrosive taste.

'Is this how it's going to end?'

She hugs herself tight as she feels the cold seeping into her suddenly numb fingertips. And doesn't notice the intent gaze of cyan eyes noting her slightly hunched figure, noting her rigidness.

'Such a swift reaction's. Unexpected'.

"But… but what if he is not a humanoid? He does have four fingers. What if he doesn't have… ahem…"

Huge weight is lifted off her shoulders. She wants to jumps up and down madly. Turning around catches sight of sly expression on the younger Siren's face and can't help but laugh.

"You thought I was talking about Mordecai?"

Smile on crimson lips turns bitter, golden eyes widen.

"When will you tell him?"

Lilith jerks as if slapped. Real anguish shows though her cheerful façade.

Ruthless Firehawk turns into the woman, who has made too many mistakes to count, into the woman filled with deep regrets. That's the main emotion written all over her face.

"There is nothing to tell."

'Liar, liar, fucking liar…'

Predictable answer doesn't surprise Maya. Nodding she raises from the bench.

"You know, I'm not going to tell you something nice and moving. Or give an advice. But I've always thought that it's better try once, than feel useless regrets because you haven't."

The retort is defensive as it should be.

"Yeah? But what about you? Are you going to tell him?"

Squaring her shoulders Maya replies calmly.

"I will. We're going after that train, just two of us. Tina should have explosives ready by tomorrow."

Lilith sneers spitefully.

"Until then, don't you fucking tell me what to do with my personal life."

It's crude and just plain insulting, and instantly woman feels bad seeing hurt in cyan eyes.

But younger Siren recovers fast and nods sharply.

"Moreover, I'd like to tell you. Jealousy doesn't suit you, Lilith…"

Infuriated she exhales and throwing the last, baleful glance, stomps off to the headquarters. Leaving Maya alone on the deserted streets. Town folk are always wary about Siren, especially the angry ones.

* * *

><p>Lilith is mad at other woman right until the ambush is discovered…<p>

"…Killer, run!"

* * *

><p>…By some miracle Assassin and Siren have made it. Battered, but victorious they bring modified battery to Sanctuary. Before installation Scooter has to take a look at it …<p>

Tight embraces and congratulations. Little celebration they haven't had for such a long time…

* * *

><p>Some forebodings don't let her sleep. After few hours of tossing and turning in her upper bunk woman climbs down and walks out onto the balcony to catch some fresh air. Cool floor stings her bare feet but she pays no heed to it.<p>

Evil eye of Hyperion station glares at them from above.

Leaning on the rails she peers outside. Some casual passersby hurriedly walk to their homes, glancing back every minute.

'Maybe tomorrow they try will to install new battery for town's shield'.

'They still can't raise Sanctuary in the air. Although anxiety and nervousness are constant presence gnawing at them, their new friends have brought hope for all of them. Even if they are little bit crazy. But who can be called normal nowadays. And what is normal, anyway?'

Moxxi's bar is disturbing the blessed silence. Displeasure contorts her face. Lilith knows, that most of the guys are there, but can't force herself into going there.

'Not yet'.

And without him she doesn't feel like celebrating.

Artificial light pours from above, giving everything illusory and ghost-like appearance. Usually there is never enough time to appreciate the calm and serenity of the night. Explosions and fire are more common, but sometimes she manages to snatch some peace…

Some night bird flies above flapping its wings almost inaudibly. Reminding her about Bloodwing and in turn… about Hunter…

'Damn… not again…'

Silently cursing Siren rubs bridge of her nose…

Something red flashes further ahead. Almost in the center of the town's square.

She leans over the railing to see better.

One… no, two… people… but they are so close that you can mistake them for being the only one. Movements are hurried and so impatient…

Lilith snickers without any malice.

'Seems like Maya is good on her promises…'

Heavy sigh forces its way from her lungs…


	6. Chapter 6

AN. Sometimes it feels like the story is going out of my control.

* * *

><p>Lilith staggers back covering her mouth with her hands. Anguish and pain, and despair in man's voice hit her like with physical force.<p>

'No…'

First thought is to teleport to wildlife reservation, where he is now, but with some effort she extinguishes golden light from the activated markings. Gripping the edge of the interactive table, stares at the echo transmission. The monstrosity lies immovable…

'No… it's still their friend… whatever she has become…'

Then the voice promising death and vengeance to Jack catches in his throat and only harsh breathing is audible…

'Gods above...'

She can't tear her eyes from the display that shows video of Maya's progress. It seems that all of the four hesitate to approach the Bloodwing. Paralyzed they stare at the dead bird. Finally Zer0, who has seen death in all its ugly forms, snaps out of shock and cautiously steps to the body. Another display shows black-clad hands picking up torn and burned leather collar from the bloody mess. Shaking off gore Assassin plucks out the rectangular chip.

* * *

><p>Astonished she turns to Roland instructing vault-hunters to continue their way…<p>

'What?! What is this?..'

Letting go of the metal table woman clutches her head in horror…

'How has it come to this?'

Unable to look at the transmission any more Siren goes to the next room. She paces sleeping quarters with hurried steps, worrying her lip with sharp teeth until it bleeds.

'Are they going to disregard and discard all the victims… all of the fallen comrades? And take their sacrifices for granted.'

When she embraces herself to ward off the chill her fingers are death-cold.

'Will they keep going on and on? Without even a glance back. Without even a word.'

Maybe she's overreacting, but she has been wrung with constant worry, like a taut string ready to snap and hurt the first person coming across.

The Sanctuary is just another prison, although more spacious and crowded than Firehawk's hideout, but nevertheless it's still a prison. Restricting and suffocating. She's like a warrior that's held back from the battle, and her faithful sword rusts in its sheath. The role of princess in the tower just feels so wrong.

Of course Lilith is grateful for human contact but once in a while she craves the calm and silence and it's not possible to catch a moment of blessed solitude now. In addition to exhausting routine, seeing him so often drives her mad.

'At arm's length and light years away…'

Golden eyes stare at the "Fight back" banner with sorrow…

'So what is the difference between them and Handsom Jack? What is the difference?'

She sways on her feet and leans on the bunk bed for support.

'Mordecai is all alone there… all alone…'

* * *

><p>In dim light of the war room he looks like a ghost, chiseled features stand out even sharper in his rage. His fists – clenched tight. His eyes…<p>

'Haunted and dead…'

He drags his feet like he has aged for ten years. His jaws and teeth ache from being clamped too tight.

Roland squeezes man's shoulder and gives him one-armed embrace offering his silent condolences. Nodding Hunter sits tiredly in one of the rocky chairs and right away takes out a bottle.

She doesn't know how to comfort the one in grief. Nobody has taught her that. There's no loving family to explain how and the loss has never really touched her life.

'What to tell? What to do? Say something? Or remember something good?'

But the tactic proves wrong. It's like trying to embrace a person with burns. Wounds are too fresh, too open. Hunter just tells them to shut their mouths up.

Vault-hunters are eager to leave, judging from their faces they are not very comfortable near seething Hunter. Assigning each one some task Roland dismisses them and tells to get some rest. Tomorrow will be hell of a day. As usual.

* * *

><p>Alarmed she watches how rapidly the liquid in the damned bottle disappears.<p>

Not the rakkale, something stronger, more potent, considering the lable and how he winces as if it burns.

'How can he even stand?' wonders she. 'Having consumed so much. With his weight he should be unconcious already.'

But the man manages to pace back and forth in the war room and the sleeping quarters, swaying only a little. Again and again raising the bottle to his lips.

Adrift… that's how it feels… in endless sea of dark and twisted thoughts… a boat without a stearing wheel… without purpose and direction… Fury… hate… vengeance…

'They will pay, oh, they will pay dearly… getting bloody retribution on that fucking science freaks is the first step… They have been together for so many years… His dear friend…'

'What will happen of them? And who, who will be the next victim of Jack's madness? Should have believed my intuition – this planet has claws and won't let me leave… and it has become the place of final rest for my best friend…'

She wishes to approach him but rendered unable by the suffocating feeling that she doesn't have a right to do so. Because such an act implies being close friends and they are not… they are not…

'What are they exactly? Two warped and broken parts of a puzzle… Parts, that don't fit in…'

What she want is to pry that foul swill from his grasp and fling it from the second floor or better into the gaping void outside the rooms.

Because he is slipping away.

His coping mechanism is so flawed, but what can she offer instead?

And woman watches from afar, not daring to step closer.

Comforting embraces are the liberty, that is not allowed her. 'But who does get to decide that?'

She doesn't know, or maybe she's just afraid. Of speaking to him, of being rejected. That's the most terrible.

'Shouldn't this be about him and not about her petty fears?'

Bracing herself Siren cautiously approaches glassy-eyed Hunter.

"Listen, Mordy…"

Her voice is timid, but that's enough for lighting the fuse.

He whirls to her almost falling in the process. Angry scowl mars his face into an ugly mask. Unhinged and dangerous.

'Do not look away. Do not show fear'.

"Shut the fuck up!"

Harsh reply makes her wince. Roland is watching them from the entrance, ready to interfere; she shakes her head. Dark-skinned man turns around and disappears from her line of sight, walking down the stairs.

None the wiser Mordecai makes a loud gulp. She notices how his throat bobs. He smells of alcohol and grief.

"I do– n't neeed your pity…"

Abashed Siren takes a step back. He doesn't notice.

"I'm not. I'm not offering it…"

Irritated Hunter sneers at her, raising his eyebrows mockingly.

The only thing he wants now is to be left alone.

"There's nothing you can offer me. What a shame…"

Contempt is oozing from his every word.

"Or maybe there is, Siren… To console me… How about a blowjob?"

She can't help it, her hand moves involuntary. Woman bites her lip when his head jerks back from the force of her slap.

Gingerly he touches his reddened cheek. And grins madly.

"Yeah, that's better."

Regrettably the intention to make her angry has worked, but she is not that easily deceived.

Warily Siren watches as man turns his back on her and takes a generous slug. She sighs, but undeterred chooses a moment, when the bottle is halfway to his lips, to reach around his slender waist and embrace him tightly.

His spine is stiff and unyielding. Slowly his hand lowers. Staring right ahead man takes a deep and shaky breath.

'I am stong… I am steadfast… I won't show a weakness…'

His palm comes to rest on her wrist anyway.

"I'm so sorry…"

Her muffled whisper warms a spot on his back.

Hunter can't force himself to speak, his mouth is paper-dry, and he shakes his head…

"What can I do for you?"

Hysterical laugh escapes his lips. He can't help it…

"Nothing… there is nothing..."

Grip on the bottle neck turns white-knuckled. Her hands close even tighter.

"Then, I'll… just… sit with you for a while…"

Hunter doesn't move.

'Few minutes. Just few minutes more…'

Finally mastering himself, Hunter disentangles from her embrace. Her face is contorted with her effort to keep herself together and not burst out weeping…

Impossibly gentle she takes a bottle from him to put it aside.

Man doesn't resist when Siren slips her hand in his and leads him to the lower bunk - near the entrance, so he would get some resemblance of privacy if that is even possible.

"Here, you need to sleep. That was… that was a trying day."

He nods mutely…

Man doesn't undress. Taking off his boots and flask, lies down facing the wall.

She can't leave, not like that.

'Not until he's asleep'.

The mattress sags under her weight.

* * *

><p>Hunter is sleepy and obviously doesn't realize what he is talking about but anyway Lilith complies.<p>

Taking off her boots she lies down beside him. His head rests heavily on her belly. The bad is not intended for such tall people as he but curled up he's got enough space.

Plastic frame digs little painfully into her breastbone. Lilith wiggles a bit trying to get into more comfortable position and he looks up. Apologetically she explains.

"I'm sorry. Your earphones."

That moment, doesn't matter how little, is a turning point. Because showing his uncovered face is an act of profound trust, or at least, that's how she read it. And after everything they've been through woman is not sure whether he considers her… a friend?

Nodding his understanding he takes them off without hesitation. The headwrap too.

Painfully aware Lilith looks at his red-rimmed and hollow eyes. That vulnerability is painful wrench to her heart.

Mordecai lowers his head again. Burying his nose into the soft fabric of her top sighs heavily.

If not for all the alcohol he has poured into himself he would have never allowed to let his guard down, especially with her. But the fatigue bears down his resistance, and he needs all the distraction he can get. Desire to be near some living, breathing being overcomes his reticence.

Rise and fall of her chest, softness of her belly under his cheek, warmth seeping into his skin, pleasant perfume of her own, unhurried and gentle caress of her fingers combing through his dreadlocks. Like heady delirium it fogs his reasons and his resolve to stay as far as possible.

His breath is uneven and harsh, like he's barely controlling himself.

"_VETE EL DIABLO!"_

She draws a deep breath, remembering. That maddening scream goes round and round in her head.

_VETE EL DIABLO! VETE EL DIABLO! VETE EL DIABLO!_

Like an old record. Again and again.

Looking down on seemingly motionless Hunter, she starts to hum an old lullaby, its words long forgotten and lost, but the melody, soothing and calming, is still imprinted in the memory.

Like from the side Mordecai sees his hand raising, his open palm reaches to rest on the flare of her hips. Blue - that's what he's heard at least - to him it's grey on almost white - mesmerizes him, displace the thoughts of death and destruction. Absent-mindedly he traces a swirling pattern on the wide strip of supple flesh that is not covered by clothes; muscles there jump at his touch.

Startled woman gasps, her hand flies to her mouth. That makes him come to his senses. He casts an inquiring glance at her eyes.

Astonished, but not outraged…

His face is determined and grim, even if he isn't sure whether she would allow the liberty or leave him at once. Crooked and bitter smile looks more like a grimace.

But the decision is not a decision at all.

Propping himself on his left elbow, he takes her free palm and lays it on his neck. The tendons there are taut like strings. He's hot, almost feverish.

'Forget, if just for a moment.'

Hunter doesn't wait for permission and lowers his mouth to drag it across the soft skin just above the band of her jeans. Without tearing his gaze off her eyes.

Woman is silent as if afraid that it's not real, only her imagination and tension of last weeks meddling with her ability to think clearly. But no, the feel of his touch is real and sends frissons of heat to pool in her lower abdomen. It has been too long…

Emotions welling in her are too thick and she manages to squeeze out only one word from her constricted throat.

"Mordecai…"

His hand slides under her back, his thumb digs in between her shoulder-blade and spine, where the muscles are tense from all that worrying.

Dipping his tongue in her navel he teases a gasp from her.

Her palms skim over his shoulders, then clench him tightly.

Woman doesn't care that he's inebriated, doesn't hear a little voice inside her head nagging about taking advantage; it doesn't concern her that Roland is downstairs and can walk on them at any moment. Too long they have been balancing on the edge and a little shove is enough to propel them into the endless abyss.

Desire laced with sorrow and hate blossoms like hellish flower in his chest. Anger that clouds his mind makes him rough and demanding.

Lilith doesn't fight him, doesn't want to, embracing the darkness he's offering her, desperate for everything he can give.

Kind of sad.

But Hunter matches her in misery. Liquid courage allows him to be that bold and brazen and take her, distracting himself from harsh, unforgiving reality. Even if he wants her awkward comfort, he knows not how to accept it, but only how to twist it. Nobody has taught him that. Nobody has told him that allowing himself being comforted is not a sign of weakness…

What is it, if not ignorance? What is it, if not foolishness? What is it, if not self-deception?

The easiest way turns out the most painful…

Their coupling is quick and hurried, shameful thing meant to be buried and forgotten. Satisfaction is not yet waned in their bodies, as the deep chasm opens between them…

The morning finds her alone…

Her apprehension – or was it silver of hope – about the change of status quo between them are dispelled. It seems like nothing has ever happens. He is still cold and aloof, worse than before.

…Mistakes they shouldn't have committed, words they shouldn't have said, looks they shouldn't have shares…

Too late, the damage is done… And the distance stretches wide…


	7. Chapter 7

They play their old game of self-deception. They talk about trivial things, but every word is layered with biting cold.

How are the supposed to work out the chasm between them if they are just too stubborn or maybe plain scared to bring up what has happened?

It's the fear that makes people do foolish things. Binds their hands, silences their tongues.

That is why he has run. The acute need to save face has been just too overwhelming to stay and face possibilities of really being with her. Obligations. Responsibility. These words do not scare Hunter any more, but rather words like open up or show sentiment, or even better – admit that she is what he needs and then get dumped again. On the other hand the worry that he has ruined everything drives him to restore some balance. There is no other way, known to him, than playing indifferent. But they have already been there, done that.

Mordecai sees that woman is ready to bite his head off, even if she tries keeping her features calm and neutral.

He knows her better than that.

Tiny things, that people around usually overlook, but not he, never he. Pursing of her lips when he appears in her vicinity, slight furrowing of her brows at the moment when she spots him, almost unnoticeable stiffening of her slender shoulders, when she hears him talking to one of the Vault-hunters. Through tinted glass of his goggles Hunter easily reads fury and hurt in the planes of woman's face.

Light from the interactive map emphasizes the hollowness of his cheeks and darkness under her eyes.

Lilith needs answers but it seems to her that the curve of his lips hides mocking edge, and being mocked is not what she can stand, especially from the man she has slept with. It forces her to keep distance. Folding her hands, even if anyone can tell defensive mechanism, she stares him down from across the table.

'Grab by the dreadlocks and hit him face-first against the edge. Blood splattering all over the digital terrain…'

Shaking off her bloodthirsty thoughts she focuses on business. Roland's voice drones on and on: the plan, importance of every step, encouragements. Something makes him very sure of their success. She'd like to have his confidence, but the death of Bloodwing makes coming to believe it little difficult.

That evening seven of them are clustered in the war room discussing how to proceed with the plan. The chip for Claptrap is obtained, now it's time to enlist Slab King's support. Lilith proposes Salvador and Axton trying that – their fondness of destruction and controlled chaos makes them the best for that role, they should be able to convince Brick to cooperate. That leaves Zer0 and Maya going to Opportunity after Jack's double. After most of the main issues are solved and there are only some minor questions Lilith goes to sit down.

From the rickety chair near the entrance that sure has seen better times – as everything in Resistance headquarters - Lilith watches Roland's back, keeping her eyes on the man's black cap, so that they won't wander across the room to cocksure Hunter lounging on the stained couch like he owns the place. During the meeting he has been sitting there, sometimes adding some valuable information or a sarcastic remark.

She can feel the weight of Mordecai's burning glare and it summons angry blush to her face and ears.

'Dirty. Used'. Dances on the fringe of her consciousness. 'Bastard' almost slips from her tongue.

Dropping her gaze to the floor she tiredly waits until the council of war is finished. At the last moment Maya suggests going to the Moxxi's for some pizza and drink before sleep, restless or sound depending on the person.

Reluctantly Lilith agrees, she has been working with her animosity towards owner of the bar and almost get rid of her desire to strangle woman at the sight of her, even if she cannot possible know what transpired between her and Hunter. Siren even has got to the point where she can have breakfast there and not paint the walls with somebody's brains. She could only blame it on imagination that supplies her with pictures of Moxxi writhing in pleasure under Hunter.

As it's usual for late evenings, bar is crowded and loud, drunken patrons make way to Vault-hunters, some cheer or try to offer drink, other just hide from the sight. Busty brunette greets Siren as everyone before — with a lusty smile and sugary words.

As always pizza is tasty, alcohol – potent, customers – noisy.

Few shots of cognac make her pleasantly relaxed without being drunk. Almost all of them are laughing, though more subdued then usual, trading funny or boisterous stories. Well almost all. Zer0 sits at the table closest to the back entrance – the best place from tactical point of view – speaking in hushed tones with Hunter. Lilith notices all that because she sits with Roland facing the two men, Maya on the opposite bench.

Siren is gland that their 'fearless leader' seems more relaxed and has some respite from being neck-deep in Resistance's business, and he needs it more than anyone in that town. But woman's gaze is drawn towards scowling Hunter. He's busy peeling off the label and doesn't notice her scrutiny.

"Lilith, Lilith!"

Startled woman looks at Siren calling out her name. Mortified she tries to look nonchalant.

"Yeah…"

Corners of Maya's mouth lift up almost imperceptibly.

"I was asking did you find out that you can… I don't know spread your wings… or teleport?"

Masking her unease Lilith laughs – she can answer only the first question, the second – tough luck. In her peripheral vision she sees how Mordecai darts a glance in her direction, his nostrils flare. But she keeps her eyes trained on the woman across the table.

"Well… wings… I was dancing".

Simultaneously Roland and Maya lift their eyebrows in obvious surprise. Siren doesn't want to go into details, still uncomfortable with conversation.

"Yes, that's all I'm gonna tell you."

She's glad that younger woman catches the drift and changes the topic.

The night is getting late but no one is ready to leave – busy spending blood-earned money and relaxing. Lazily spiraling above smoke penetrates her nostrils with acrid smell, alcohol flows freely hazing minds and loosening tongues. When the craving for fresh air overwhelms her, Lilith finds herself outside, on the pleasantly empty street, but even through the doors the rhythmical and heavy beat of music is audible enough. It doesn't bother her as before.

Woman doesn't hear his footsteps, only when he is very close she feels that she's no longer alone. Tension is a living thing breathing down her neck. Her shoulders stiffen involuntary. Silence stretches between them, bitter and cold. Mordecai doesn't say anything and she doesn't want to.

Only when the lack of words becomes intolerable she half-turns her head, glancing at him from under her brow. The darkness of his goggles impenetrable, darkness of his thoughts as well. The sight of him so deep in thought drowns her in waves of longing and regrets. Composing herself Lilith tries to ask casually and not give out furious beating of her heart or swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"Do you want something?"

He can't stand it anymore. If he has to watch it a moment longer he can break something, or someone. Or he's gonna be sick and not because of three bottles of ale he has drained. Hazy gray smoke doesn't hide the paleness of her face and gentle slope of her neck. Musical laugh makes him want to tear her throat out...

'With teeth and leave her bleeding. Just few days ago she was was moaning without shame under me and now is touchy-feely with Roland.'

Taking the last gulp of cold drink that can't soothe the rage inside he nods to Zer0 and raises to leave. But right before his eyes Siren beats him to it. Doors swings closed behind her back. Smiling grimly he follows.

"Do you want something?"

Hunter shakes his head at her nonchalant tone.

It's very simple. He wants revenge. Recently it seems the thoughts of vengeance have been driving him mad. Vengeance, disgust, lust. Interlacing and pounding under his skin. Siren's presence makes him desire not only her touch, but her pain. Take and destroy. Hurt and make her feel what he feels. They do scare him a little. These violent impulses towards her. But not enough to stay away and deny himself the pleasure of her suffering and her sweetest submission. He craves her flame. So that his darkness would recede into the deepest pit of his soul and he wouldn't be so angry at one of his few friends. Because every time when Hunter notices her looking at Roland his hand instinctively reaches for his revolver and he doesn't like what he's turning into.

'That is her fault.'

Mordecai sees her tense shoulders and that pleases him. He wants her to be wary of him, at least she wouldn't be indifferent. Fury he can accept, with anger he can work.

"You. I want you."

She stares right ahead not knowing how to respond to such direct answer. He doesn't wait for her to process his words but slides his hand around her waist.

'Punish her. Break her.'

And whispers near the delicate shell of her ear, "Siren." The insult is not in the word but rather in his tone.

Years old grudges are like long-healed wounds aching during bad weather.

She holds still at his blatant advances.

'Drag her through the dirt and make her feel...'

"I bet Roland is glad to fuck you again."

That makes it. Woman jerks away finally overcoming the shock. But his palms only clamp harder, drawing her closer he presses himself to her back.

"What the hell is with you? Stop it!"

She can feel the heat of his body and powerful beating of his heart, can smell machine oil, rakkale and... him.

"I like it when you're angry."

His breath is hot on the skin of her neck, but his mouth skimming over her pulsing carotid is scorching. His left hand drifts higher and cups her breast though the clothes, making her gasp. Her elbow lashes out but he is faster and stronger. Her shoulder is in bruising grip before the hit lands on his abdomen.

"Let me go!"

His husky laugh do devious things to her insides, but she can't be swayed that easily, even if her atmost desire is to give in.

"We need to talk."

Her statement ignored he leans closer trying to seduce her, take her under control, show her that it's not him who is the weak. Conquer her before she can see that he's trapped in her snare, bound by her witchcraft.

"Perhaps. Later."

Mordecai know what she wants to talk about, but he's not ready, not by a long shot. He just doesn't have a fitting lie to tell. Telling her outright that he has panicked seeing her sleeping so peacefully beside him is out of question. Can't explain what compelled him to run and hide behind the indifference. Because staying means caring and giving her the upper hand. And leaving was the stupidest thing he has ever done.

'Damned if I did and damned if I didn't.'

The promise of possible heartbreak has wormed its way into his mind long ago. She can't be trusted, that's what he believes. Express anything of that in words – too dangerous.

'Better safe, than sorry'.

Still he tries to salvage the situation, but his answer rings hollow.

"Maybe you shouldn't have let me."

She recoils as if slapped. Obviously Lilith hasn't expected such an answer. Sporadic light flickers over her markings. Her words are imbued with derision. She gives as much as gets.

"Maybe you shouldn't have cried so hard, poor baby."

Any regrets he could have felt instantly turn into the blinding rage. Dark tide of hatred swamps him whole. Now he wants to slit her throat open.

"Fucking bitch."

Before she can inhale to answers him, Hunter slams her back in the wall behind them, forcing the breath out of her lungs. Using woman's temporary disorientation gets her wrists in one of his hands and forces them above her head. Holding her pinned leans into her with all his body, his fingers close on her throat with thumb pressing lightly on her windpipe.

Instinctively Lilith goes very still, glaring daggers at him instead but not venturing to say something else.

"That's better, love. Shut the fuck up."

Tipping her chin back, licks the seam of her tightly closed lips. She bites his tongue. He starts back from the sudden pain, in retaliation bites her upper lip drawing a pitiful whimper. The next touch is more like brutal assault making her mouth to fall open. Iron and liquor blossoms on their tongues battling for dominance.

Dark twisted thing born of hatred, jealousy, regret and desire threatens to burn them to ashes.

Roughly he releases her to bunch up her top and caress soft skin of her belly, strokes underside of her breasts. At her fingers on the back of his head Mordecai moans into her mouth and breaks the kiss.

Opening her heavy lids she sees his goggles. And remembers. The cold and empty bed.

"No!" woman shakes her head vehemently.

Hunger is written all over his features, but woman knows better than submit to the promise lurking behind the tinted glass.

"Stop it! You're freaking drunk."

He freezes and straightens up to see her flushed face. The laugh hurled in her face sounds bizarre and cruel.

"It didn't keep you from fucking with me last time. But now you want me to stop?"

Guiltily she glances away. Tracing her slightly swollen lips with his thumb Mordecai takes a deep breath near her neck and leers at her derisively.

"I can smell how much you want me."

Blood drains from woman's face.

"I hate you."

The wry smile doesn't leave his face, but widens.

"No, you don't."

"Fuck you!"

"You did."

His fingers slide into her fiery hair. He kisses her again, slowly, dragging out the pleasure. With that touch, more gentle, less aggressive, his anger clears out a little. Woman tries to protest again, pushing at his chest, but after few feeble attempts grabs the maroon wrap on his waist to draw him closer.

He feels ashamed. Of himself. Of her. Of how he has handled his loss of self-control. How easy she can tear down his defenses. How vulnerable he is before that stare, golden, they say.

He can't blame his lapse in judgment on the death of his friend. He hasn't been that drunk. Just decided to use her.

'And that's the most terrible, isn't it? But she's not better. She knew that I'm not my rightful mind, still went along. So why should he feel ashamed?'

"Why are doing thins to me?"

"Because I can."

Lilith sighs tiredly. Resisting is what she can't do. Hungrily she drinks the bitter and venomous poison of his malice and hatred. Asking for more.

He obliges sliding his hand under the worn fabric of her top to knead her breast roughly.

'Everything, everything you want.'

His own thought surprises him, but it disappears when her soft feminine palms touch the naked skin of his back. Some part of him does understand that letting himself be led by these base instincts are not gonna work in the long run. Too many words left unspoken, too many lies looming above their heads threatening to crush them. But Hunter shoves these musing aside as long as he can have the trembling and moaning woman in his hands. Her arousal is heady and sweet perfume making him dizzy and impatient.

"Mordecai, please, stop."

Of course she can surrender, allow him to do the devious and delicious things to her, but the way he treats her – like some cheap whore – is not what she can accept, even if it does fuels her desire. On the whole it's a recipe for disaster.

'Try and salvage what is left of our… connection… they shouldn't… she can't be used like that…'

His tongue tracing her clavicle doesn't help to think straight.

With a purple flash she disappears…

Cursing loudly Hunter kicks the wall that holds the warmth of her body.


End file.
